


Could Have

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Eureka
Genre: Arguing, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Tension, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:59:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan finds himself working with Henry to avert a crisis, but then old issues come up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Could Have

**Author's Note:**

> For misura for smallfandomfest on livejournal, for the prompt Henry/Nathan, "You could be so much more"

Another day, another danger.

As usual, the town would be engulfed in flames if not for Henry.

This time, though, it was cutting it pretty close. Dr. Zemin’s new materials science project was threatening to make random objects in Eureka explode at unpredictable intervals, and Henry needed to re-adjust his stabilization ray as soon as possible. It took mechanical skill, physical strength, and a mind who could calculate in his head as fast as Henry could, and Nathan knew that even in Eureka, that wasn’t easy to find.

“Two heads are better than one,” Nathan said and asked Henry what he could do.

“Don’t you have a politician to grease?” Henry said.

“You can mock my life choices after we save the town,” Nathan replied.

That actually got a smile out of Henry (Nathan didn’t get a lot of those from him these days).

Henry threw him a wrench and told him to recalibrate the wave sensors. Nathan took off his suit jacket and lay on the concrete floor to wriggle down under the sensor panel.

It had been a long time since he was on the floor of Henry’s garage, the cold hardness at his back, his hands working a problem as fast as they could.

It felt pretty good.

\--

They finished right before Café Diem blew up. It had already started vibrating when Jack called and told them that the whole street would be gone if the ray weren’t ready.

Nick of time.

After, Henry held out his hand to help Nathan off the floor. 

“You ruined your clothes,” Henry said, gesturing to the back of Nathan’s pants and shirt. He didn’t sound sorry.

“All in a day’s work,” Nathan said.

Henry paused. “Thanks. For your help. I needed the extra hands.”

“I get a beer now, right?”

Henry looked confused.

Nathan added, “After a successful project. We have a beer.”

Henry smiled and shook his head, remembering. Back when Nathan was his student, Henry would reward a successful project with pizza and beer and an afternoon of hanging out. Henry was only a few years older than him, so it was almost like spending time with a friend instead of a mentor – almost, but not quite.

“I’m sure you have more important things to do, Nathan.”

“I’d have to go home and change anyway. It’s already late. Might as well call it a day.”

Henry looked at him discerningly. Eventually, he nodded. 

“Have a seat on the sofa,” Henry said. “I’ll get the food.”

He came back a few minutes later with fruit and sandwiches and two cold beers. “We should eat more sensibly at our ages,” Henry said.

Nathan nodded his thanks for the sandwich as he took a bite. It was surprisingly good – turkey with pesto, tomatoes, and some kind of cheese blend that Henry probably cultured himself.

“Hey,” Henry said, taking a cherry from the fruit bowl, “Do you remember that time we almost blew up the lab trying to integrate – what was it…”

“The graviton pulse with the static arelian field,” Nathan recalled with a smile.

Henry laughed. “I’m surprised we didn’t get kicked out for that. We were lucky. I guess Dr. Zemin isn’t the only one who has his less than cautious moments.”

“GD doesn’t abandon brilliant minds for taking risks anymore,” Nathan said, “It’s counterproductive – only leads to people hiding their mistakes and making the situation worse.”

“Is that your job now? To be a kindly patron for mad scientists?” Henry said, looking down at his bottle.

Nathan sighed. “And here we were getting along so nicely.”

Henry leaned back onto the couch cushions and looked at Nathan. “I think you had the potential to change science forever. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t think it’s to the detriment of all humanity that you decided to be a bureaucrat instead.” His voice was sad, resigned, but Nathan couldn’t help but take it for the attack that it was.

“Last I checked,” Nathan said, struggling to keep his voice nonchalant – and Henry was still the only person who made this a struggle for him – “Idealism isn’t what makes things happen. It’s institutional support.”

Henry sighed. “I didn’t want us to have this argument again, Nathan. It never gets us anywhere.”

“Then why the hell do you keep bringing it up?” Nathan said, his voice tense, nothing like what he wanted it to sound.

Henry looked at him, disappointment bleeding into an anger that Henry usually kept under wraps. “When you mentor someone – when you spend _years_ of your life trying to develop their mind, trying to help them be the best scientist they can be, it’s not because you hope that someday they’ll be bureaucrat in chief. It’s because you want them to have your knowledge _and_ your ideals, it’s because you want to pass on what it _means_ to be a scientist. It’s sharing your love of knowledge, your _awe_ of the universe. I can name three dozen people who could run GD. How many people can make the discoveries that you would have made, Nathan?”

“I am playing a huge role in the direction that cutting edge science takes, Henry. “If you want to make a difference, you have to work within the system.”

“You’re not working within the system. You are the system.”

“I don’t apologize for that,” Nathan said.

“Of course not. When have you ever apologized for anything?”

Nathan’s lips thinned. “Like you did.”

Henry gaped. “Are you serious? You think _I_ should apologize to _you_?”

Nathan realized he was gripping his beer tightly. He set it down and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You said that we were equals outside of the lab. You said our personal life was completely separate from our professional life.”

Henry looked offended. “I never abused my power. We didn’t even start your relationship until after you had your degree.”

“You promised that our personal relationship would be separate. But when I made a career decision you didn’t approve of, you were just… done with me. You could have at least been honest,” Nathan said. He leaned back, as if he had just scored a point, trying to make it seem like the argument was oneupsmanship, trying to let no emotion show in his voice.

“You were the one who lied,” Henry said quickly, and Nathan noted with satisfaction that Henry was not doing as well hiding his feelings, “You acted like you believed what I taught you. About science, about life.”

“I did, at the time. But I couldn’t lead my whole life according to your narrow view of what a scientist has to be!”

“Narrow? You acted like you wanted to be my colleague. You didn’t even tell me you had applied for an administrative post! I had to find out from a GD mass email that you weren’t going to be working in the lab next door any more!”

“Because I knew how you would react!” Nathan said. “I knew that you would judge, and that you would--”

“I took it as a personal betrayal because that’s what it was!” Henry said.

Nathan paused. They were both breathing faster, gripping the arm of the sofa. Finally, he said, quietly, “I took a job that you didn’t like, and then I was nothing to you. I was nothing. That’s betrayal.”

Henry stared at him a long time. He looked bewildered, angry still. 

Nathan finished the last of his bottle and set it down on the table. “I guess we’ll agree to disagree. Like always.” 

“Yeah,” Henry said, and Nathan could see that he was still fuming but didn’t want things to turn any uglier than they had.

Nathan stood. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Sure,” Henry said, poking at the food left on his plate.

Nathan sighed and started to walk out, grabbing his Armani jacket on the way. As he reached the door, he hesitated, then turned around.

“It was fun working with you again,” Nathan said, carefully removing any affection, any regret from his voice.

Henry nodded, gave him a sad smile. “For me, too.”

Nathan nodded and walked away.


End file.
